


What We Said in the Dark

by BastardSonOfDay (Diana_Raven)



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: :( too bad he wont stay that way, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, baby!lucien, lucien is young and innocent and not cynical yet, no editin gwe die like mne, written to blow off creative steam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Raven/pseuds/BastardSonOfDay
Summary: Lucien drunkenly winnows into the Illyrian Camps. Rhysand is the first to find him.





	What We Said in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Lucien's super ooc bc i hc his cynicism came later and hes a giggly!drunk when he's a kid so ye
> 
> i’m somewhere past drunk and decidedly lost and you’re a kindly local on a nighttime outing AU
> 
> Unbetaed

When Rhys saw the male he was stumbling around the outskirts of the Illyrian camps. Rhys had no _idea_ how he got there. Rhys watched him curiously. He was alone, a bottle of Dawn gin in his hand. He ran a hand through his brilliant red hair. His eyes locked on the sky, as anyone who had shown up in the Night Court for the first time would be. He stumbled over a small rock, falling onto the ground. The male tries to get up, and can’t seem to be able to. He finally gave up and rolled onto his back—staring at the stars.

He looked familiar, Rhys thought. Though he couldn’t place where he knew the kid from.

Rhys flew over to him, though still out of his eyesight, and landed next to him. He walked over the rest of the way to the boy and tucked his wings back into his back. The boy was _pretty_. And pretty, Rhys knew, wasn’t something that lasted in the Illyrian camps. Nor something one wanted to be, male or female. His red hair fell to his mid-back, but was currently fanned out around his dark face. He had to be from Autumn, Rhys knew, there wasn’t red hair like that anywhere else in Prythian. But the skin seemed too dark for that… Something to mull over another time, after Rhys figured out what the _hell_ this kid was doing here.

“You’re lucky it isn’t winter.” Rhys said.

The boy’s eyes glanced over to him. Rhys bent down next to him. The kid took a swig from his bottle of booze. “Otherwise it would be so cold here you’d freeze.” Rhys added.

The kid sat up. Grass stuck to his hair, his pupils were blown and his eyes glazed. His breath smelled of booze. He stared at Rhysand, then burst into giggles. He laughed himself silly on the ground, dropping the booze.

“Don’t be stupid.” The kid said between laughs. “It can’t be Winter here! It’s _Autumn_!”

Rhys frowned. Did this kid not know where he was? How did one travel across almost all of Prythian without knowing it?

The boy rolled back onto his back as he calmed down. He sighed and stared at the sky and gasped. “But the sky never looked so _pretty_ before!”

“Yeah kid, that’s ‘cuz you’re in Night.”

The male frowned. “I’m in Night? That’s not right… I can’t be in Night.”

“Well, you are. You’re at the edge of the Illyrian camps.”

The boy gasped. “I am? I guess that means I won! How awesome is that?”

“Won?”

“The contest!”

“What… contest?”

The boy waved a hand flippantly. His eyes searched for the bottle of booze and frowned when he upended it and found no alcohol inside. “My brothers… wanted to see who could winnow the farthest. I won. _Obviously_. Hey, you got any of this stuff? It’s real good!”

His cheeks were flushed and when the moonlight played on them the boy seemed to glow. Rhys stared at him. The boy frowned and snapped his fingers in front of Rhys’ face. “Dude. Hello?”

Rhys blinked. “S-Sorry. Uh, no. We don’t have any of that.”

“Oh.” The boy sighed disappointed and dropped back onto the ground. “It’s so pretty here.”

“Why are you drunk?” Rhysand asked.

The male shook his head. “Not drunk. Dad would be _sooo_ pissed if I was drunk.”

“You’re clearly wasted, buddy.”

“No.”

Rhys snorted. “Okay, then what do you think this stuff you’ve been chugging is?” He asked, waving the bottle of the Dawn gin.

The boy frowned. “My brothers told me it was sun-cider, you know, what they drink in Day in the morning.” He smiled, and looked back at the sky. “It tastes like sunshine.”

“Your brothers lied to you. This is Dawn Gin. It also tastes like sunshine. Sun-cider is sweeter.”

The boy’s jaw dropped. He started to giggle again. “Uh-oh.” He hummed, “ _Dad_ is _sooooo_ gonna kick his ass.” He said. Though Rhys had no idea who ‘his’ was.

He turned to Rhys and then back to the sky. “You ever looked at the night sky here?”

Rhys shrugged. You’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it every night. Not a big deal. “Yeah.”

“It’s so _pretty_.”

Rhys looked down at him. This was the first time he’d seen anything remotely pretty in years. Everything in the Illyrian camps sucked and were ugly and-well, except his mom and sister.

The boy looked up at him. “C’mon, look up at the sky with me.”

So Rhys laid down next to the boy, their bodies inches apart. Rhys could feel his Autumn magic heating up the air between them. Shimmering with warmth against the chill breezes from the mountains. The heavens bellowed and heaved. The stars glittered in the sky like millions of fireflies, and the galaxies and colors of the Aurorae made the sky… breath taking.

“See?” The boy breathed. Being quiet as if he were afraid of speaking too loudly and scaring the stars away. “Pretty.”

Rhys looked down at the boy. The stars reflected in his deep russet eyes, and his smile made something inside Rhys warm. “Yeah.” Rhys agreed. “Pretty.”

The boy turned his head to Rhys. Their noses were barely five inches from one another. His breath fogged up the air between them, Rhys could taste the booze.

“How old are you?” Rhys asked him, not realizing he was whispering.

“Seventy-seven next week.” He grinned and turned his gaze back to the sky. “Why?”

“You’re so...” Innocent was the word that came to mind, but Rhys didn’t say it. “Optimistic.”

“Is it optimistic to think the sky of the Night Court is beautiful?”

“It’s optimistic to think that the people here are the same.”

The male shrugged. “My brothers call it naivete. But until something happens to dissuade me, I think I’ll always see the beauty in things. At least, in things that most people can’t see the beauty in.” He turned over to Rhys and giggled again. “At least, while I’m drunk.”

“That’s a nice thought. The beauty part, not the drunk part.”

The boy laughed. “I have a secret.” He whispered. “Wanna hear it?”

“Sure.”

“Well next week, on my birthday, Dad’s gonna bring me into Court life, y’know.”

Rhys nodded. He did know. It had been obvious this kid was a High Fae, Rhys wondered how high in the Autumn Court the kid’s father was. He wondered if he’d see him at the next Gathering in Dawn.

“-And well, he expects to marry me off in a few years, you know. But I’m not gonna let him, see. I’m too young to be useful for anything, even marriage. No one will marry a seventh son.” The boy said. Rhys almost frowned as something was about to click in his head… but he needed to give it one extra push. A seventh son? That was very impressive for any Fae! Who had a seventh son? Rhys couldn’t remember.

“Anyway,” the boy continued, “I’ve decided I’ll make friends. And go to other Courts _all_ the time. See the world! You know? And then, I’ll come back here, and I’ll see you again and see this sky again, but I’ll never forget this! The first time I saw this… no one could ever forget something this beautiful.”

The boy turned back to Rhys, his eyes glittering happily. “You’ll see me?”

“Well you’re very nice, so I hope so.” He said. He smiled and winked at Rhys.

Rhys wasn’t sure if he kissed the male or the male kissed him but suddenly their lips were on one another’s. The male’s lips were smooth and gentle, and he tasted of booze and cinnamon.

Rhys pulled back, eyes wide. The male cocked his head. “See?” He said slyly. “Very nice. Very _, very_ nice.”

“Yeah.” Rhys breathed, “nice.”

The boy leaned in to kiss him again and Rhys jerked backwards. “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“So, I like my partners sober. And you’re barely legal! I mean, _seriously_ , do you _know_ how much older than you I am?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said, “whatever.”

“Maybe in a few centuries, kid. Not today.”

“Uh huh.” The male looked back at the sky, arms crossed behind his head. “Whatever. That’s fine. The sky is just as pretty as you. I’ll look at that instead.”

Rhys glanced up. “Okay. Okay.” He said, calming down slightly.

They were quiet for a second. “Hey, kid? What’s your name?” Rhys asked the male, but his question was met with silence. “Kid? Kid?” Rhys asked. He sat up on his elbows and glanced at the boy who had fallen asleep. He snuffled softly, ankles crossed and arms still curled behind his head.

Well, Rhys couldn’t leave him out here…

Rhys sighed and stood. He lifted the kid up bridal style, and unfurled his wings. He flew closed to the tree-tops, camouflaging himself (and the kid, red hair wasn’t exactly inconspicuous here).

Rhys dropped down to his family tent, winnowing in in an implosion of shadows.

His tent was warm from the fire his mother had stoked. He looked around, Cassian and Az were out, probably helping with dinner, and his sister was already fast asleep thanks to his mother’s very specific bedtime rules. Rhys slipped the kid into his own bed-roll and heard a “ _Rhys! Rhys, where are you_?”

Rhys jumped at the sound and brushed the grass from his clothes. “Coming, Mom!” He called. He snuck past his sister, not to wake her, and back out to the bonfire dinner with his mother and his siblings.

“Mom.” Rhys whispered. “I have something to tell you.”

Rhys’ mother frowned but sat down and Rhys explained his little situation to her. “He can stay the night. I’ll take the floor-”

“Ma, I can-”

“No child of mine will be sleeping on the floor, not even one whom I’ve mysteriously acquired for a night.”

Rhys felt guilty, but was grateful he wouldn’t sleep on the floor. “Okay, Ma.”

Rhys’ mother kissed his forehead and then said: “Now, go wash your hands and let’s eat.”

Rhys did as his mother told him.

* * *

When Rhys woke up in the morning, the boy was gone and his mother was already putting away the dishes she’d used to make him breakfast.

* * *

Rhys sighed and leaned backwards in his chair boredly, just to see how far he could go. Rhys’ Father scowled at him and with a gust of wind, shoved Rhys’ chair back to the ground. Rhys grumbled and slumped.

“Sit up.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to be here. He rathered to be out with Cassian and Azriel. “Be respectful.” Rhys’ father snapped. “We’re _guests_ , here.” Rhys hadn’t wanted to come to Autumn in the first place but if his father said he had to then he had to, and that was that.

“May I present to everyone,” Beron said, entering the large meeting hall finally. The Court heads and heirs stood respectfully. Beron’s six sons… _six sons… that sounded so familiar…_ stood at the helm of the large meeting table. He turned to the door, and gave a wave of his hand. The doors opened and with his mother on his arm, in walked the drunk boy who kissed Rhys not two weeks before. Rhys’ jaw dropped. “My seventh son, Lucien Vanserra.”

The boy met his eyes, then looked away.

Rhys recovered his composure quickly. If the male didn’t mention it, then neither would he.

The meeting went on and Lucien paid Rhys no attention, not that Rhys paid _him_ any attention see, he was just curious… yeah, curious that was it. Rhys would occasionally— _occasionally—_ glance at Lucien through the reflection of a water pitcher or some such object. Rhys never caught his gaze, but he was _sure_ he could feel someone’s eyes on him when he turned his attention back to the matters at hand.

When the meeting finally broke for snacks, Lucien went around, introducing himself and making small talk with the others in the Courts. Finally he rounded his way to the Night Court.

“Hello Sir.” Lucien said, holding out a hand to Rhys’ father, who looked down at him with confusion. “I’m Lucien. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Hello Lucien. I’m High Lord Nyx. This is Rhysand, my heir.” Rhys’ father said.

“Hi Rhysand.” Lucien said, he held out his hand for Rhys to take. How could he act like that night never happened? Rhys wondered. He was an even better actor than Rhys was! That was, unless he really _didn’t_ remember. He _had_ been trashed, and he _had_ blacked out. “It’s very nice to meet you.” He said.

Rhys took his hand. “You too.”

Rhys’ father turned to the High Lord of Day to talk to him about their water agreement, and when Lucien walked past Rhys to continue on to the next royal he needed to introduce himself to, Rhys was _sure_ he heard Lucien whisper: “Told you I’d see you again.”


End file.
